


Skadi

by 4mation



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, F/F, Incest, Sibling Incest, Sister/Sister Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4mation/pseuds/4mation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was a daughter. She was a sister. She was a princess. She was a Queen. Now? Now, she is a goddess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skadi

**Author's Note:**

> Just a look at what would have happened if Elsa had been as unstable as someone who’d locked away for her entire childhood should be. For reference, Skadi is the Norse goddess of Winter and the Hunt, as well as Justice, Vengeance and Righteous Anger. For bonus points, Skadi was represented in two of Hans Christian Anderson’s tales: “The Snow Queen” and “The Ice Princess”. Guess why this is relevant

 

* * *

 

            She is many things. Daughter, prisoner, curse. Sister, friend, lover. Princess, queen, exile. But here, now? She is goddess.

            Her ice palace, her _Frost Peak_ , sits comfortably on the side of the mountain. From here, she rules with a frozen fist, and her reach is unlimited. Arendelle is nothing to her, a mere remnant of her past. Why should a kingdom concern her, when the entire world is hers? What ruler would dare risk the wrath of a goddess, a woman who could bring ruin and endless winter to his realm without leaving the comfort of her bedroom? What king would not sacrifice a few valuables and some food from the royal kitchen if it would grant him the grace of summer?

            Fear. Ultimately, her entire destiny has been shaped by fear. Fear was her greatest enemy, yes, but that’s the nice thing about enemies; once defeated, they can be made to serve you. And as she proved with fear, so did she prove with every kingdom that dared challenge her; she brought them to their knees, crippling their fleets, bringing ruin to their crops, slaughtering their herds with endless sleet and snow, decimated their populations as they died shivering in their homes. And then, when their defiance was spent, when the king sat freezing on his throne, when their bombastic and proud flags and banners were meekly lowered and replaced with her own snowflake, she would accept their surrender with a beam of sunlight. She would help them back onto their feet, and return to them their fields, their people, their seas. And then, when she sent her letter on frosty winds to be delivered to the ruling monarch, demanding food and comforts as tributes to their new goddess, the kings and queens all humbly bent their heads and called for their chefs to warm their ovens and their stable-masters to load the carriages.

            She was a benevolent goddess, she thought. She could have just as well frozen over the entire world and left them all to die, and she would still go on to live for several more millennia. Her body needed only some water and some cold as sustenance, truth be told, but it was an incredibly bland diet to drink only a cup of water every few days or so. Nourishment and fine eating were entirely separate things, and she supposed that a goddess should at least have access to the finest meals that humanity had to offer, even if she didn’t actually eat most of it. She had a figure to maintain, after all.

            Of course, not everyone had bent the knee so easily. When she had first decided to abandon Arendelle and returned to Frost Peak, the outrage had been widespread and ferocious. The royal court was in uproar when their queen was discovered to be missing, and the panic had only escalated when it was found that the princess was gone as well.

            _“Where is our queen?”_ the people had cried. _“Where is the princess? Who will rule the kingdom? What shall we do with no heir to the throne?”_

            The neighbouring kingdoms took the opportunity to step in and assert authority, the various suitors visiting Arendelle vying for power and each boasting of how he had claimed the maidenhead of the queen, the princess, or, in the case of the exceptionally bold and stupid, that he had lain with both and that both now carried his child. The lies, amusing at first, were nevertheless blasphemous, and when word reached the goddess, carried by her tiny ice pixies, she ensured that the claimants paid for their sacrilege with their tongues and their manhood, freezing both in the dead of night as they slept.

            Of course, this immediately signalled everyone that the queen still lived, and that she could somehow hear all that went on in her court. As the nobles cried of spies and informants and set about scouring their courts for this non-existent mole, it was the peasants and the servants, the unlearned and the servile, who recognised the truth, and whispered to each other over mugs of ale and skins of wine of the sorcery their queen possessed.

            _“Hang him!”_ the lords and ladies would cry as a quivering servant, whose only crime was being found in the royal chambers, soiled his pants on the gallows, a noose around his neck.

            _“Why?”_ the people would cry in response. _“What crime has this man done?”_

            _“He is guilty of treason!”_ the nobility would declare. _“He knows where the queen is, and yet says nothing!”_

            _“No one knows where the queen is!”_ the man’s wife wailed as she was dragged away from the gallows by the city watch.

            _“Aye, no one knows!”_ the broad-chested blacksmith boomed from somewhere in the crowd. _“No one can see her, no one can hear her, and no one can speak to her! But she can see us! She can hear us, and she can see the innocence of this man! And when she finds out, all of you fine dandies will wake up one morning to find your cocks and tits have frozen off!”_

            And as the crowd laughed and roared in agreement, and the nobility sent their soldiers into the crowd to find he who would speak so daringly to join the accused on the gallows, a burly ice harvester pushed his way out of the crowd to saddle his reindeer and ride north to the mountains, determined to convince his queen and his friend to save these men from an unjust fate. He would be met with icy glares and frosty indifference, but when the princess, moved by her former lover’s desperate plea, moved down to whisper in the queen’s ear, the goddess gave in and promised to do what she could to protect her people.

            And she could do great and terrible things.

            The next morning, the morning sun was greeted with a great uproar at the castle. Every noble had awoken to find their right hands ruined by frostbite, and their fingers melting on the floor. When word got out, the smallfolk all whispered to each other with fire in their eyes.

            _“Ruined right hands are the punishment for murder, ain’t it?_

_“Aye, and a missing finger is what the law says is the fate of any thief.”_

_“I understand why She would ruin their hands,”_ the buxom landlady would comment as she chopped vegetables for the stew. _“but why the fingers?”_

            _“Ain’t it obvious?”_ a castle stablehand would say as he wiped beer broth from his mouth. _“They all stole five things. They tried to steal Her Smallfolk, they tried to steal Her castle, they tried to steal Her maidenhead, they tried to steal Her sister, and they tried to steal Her kingdom!”_

           Outraged, the royal families of all those who had been punished called their banners and prepared their fleets, and their forges blazed as blacksmiths hammered out swords and mail. To wound a prince was to wound the kingdom, they would roar from their balconies to their armies below, and to wound the kingdom is to declare war. The kingdoms which raised the greatest armies and the mightiest fleets were the kingdoms of the Southern Isles and Weselton, both still stinging from their previous humiliations at the hands of the queen. Revenge is a dish best served cold, they would joke, and who better to eat a cold dish than the Ice Queen herself?

            As it happened, there was no war. In fact, there wasn’t even a single battle.

            The ice pixies could travel far and wide when carried by the goddess’s chilly winds, and they saw all that was planned, and all that was said. When they returned to Frost Peak to deliver their news, the goddess would smile and nod, unconcerned, and far more interested in the antics of her sister, who was trying to get Marshmallow and Olaf to understand hopscotch. Still, later that night as she lay in bed spooning the princess, she considered the possibility that whilst she was virtually untouchable now, others were not so fortunate. Should their armies and navies ever reach Arendelle, her pitiful military would be slaughtered, her ships would be sunk, her peasants would be raped, murdered or enslaved, and Arendelle would burn. More importantly, they might try to invade Frost Peak, and if that happened, they could very well harm Anna.

            The goddess didn’t really care what happened to Arendelle, truth be told, and she was fairly sure that in the rare case that she was unable to rescue Kristoff and Sven, the pain of their passing would, whilst terrible, eventually heal. However, if anything were to happen to Anna… The goddess didn’t know what she would do with herself then.

            Her mind made up and her will resolved, the goddess gently unravelled her arms from around her sister’s waist, and withdrew her chin from the crook of Anna’s neck. She slipped out of bed silently, and, not bothering to waste time putting on clothes, made her way to the uppermost tower. There, in the coldest place available, where her power was at its greatest, she began to work her magic. Her arms flowed and intertwined, her form gracefully swayed as she swept her hands in intricate gestures. Above the tower, the clouds responded to her movements, swirling and rumbling. Icy winds began to howl as they surged into the clouds, and, with a great cry from the goddess, they swept her creation in all directions. The great dark clouds, heavy with the snow, frost, sleet and ice they carried, burst outwards in all directions, carrying the wrath of a goddess’s retribution towards all who dared challenge her might, who dared threaten her home, who dared endangered her sweet sister. Filled with righteous judgement, the clouds swept across the lands and seas, ready to show the mere mortals what happened to those who would challenge a deity.

 

* * *

 

            Elsa took in a deep breath as she stretched on her balcony. Elsa, not the goddess. Today was one of her better days, one of her human days. Those days when, bored with absolute power and omniscience, she would cut off her senses from the cold that, imbued with her will, covered the entire world and fed her constant information on all that transpired. Those days when, tired of godhood, she would take the time to remind herself that she had been born mortal, a human girl who had feared and hated her powers, not knowing that one day they, once fully realised, would deliver to her immortality and omnipotence. It was on these days that Elsa would take the time to do normal, human things. She would breathe the air that was so necessary for mortals, she would eat some of the delicious and extravagant meals sent by monarchs attempting to win her favour and her grace, she would enjoy the warmth of the rising sun, and she would refrain from using her powers. She would dissolve her servants and do things by herself for once, amused by the fact that without her frosty creations or her gusts of wind, the goddess of the world couldn’t reach her favourite book that rested on the top shelf. It was these things, these little things, that helped remind Elsa that she too had once been human, and could still be if she chose, if only for a few days. Because even though these were the days that Anna cherished the most (she tried to hide it, but Elsa could tell that Anna loved her sister more than she loved her goddess), Elsa would feel an emptiness growing inside when she was cut off from her abilities for too long, as if she was melting from the inside out. The first time Elsa had realised she could revert to being human, she had enjoyed an entire month with an absolutely overjoyed Anna before she had begun to feel sick, and had started sweating for the first time in her life. Only when she had restored her powers had she begun to recover, and although Anna had been relieved to know that Elsa would be fine, Elsa had seen the glimmer of disappointment at the revelation that, in the end, it was impossible for the goddess to ever be fully human.

            Speaking of Anna…

            The princess timidly approached the Ice Queen, taking care not to step into the morning light. Although she’d tried to remain silent and not intrude on Elsa’s moment of humanity, she couldn’t help her footsteps clicking against the icy floor. She raised her hand, lowered it, and then raised it again. Elsa could tell that she was building up her courage to grab the queen’s attention, and playfully waited just long enough so that Anna was on the verge of boldness before turning to speak.

            “Yes, Anna?”

            The princess’s shoulders slumped, her lips forming a cute pout. She gave Elsa a glare, miffed that once again Elsa had managed to get the first greeting in. She crossed her arms, unimpressed by Elsa’s teasing.

            “Oh, don’t be like that. It’s not like it’s new or something. You’d think that in over three hundred years you’d learn that I’m always going to have the first word.”

            Anna rolled her eyes at that. No matter how godly Elsa became, she loved the fact that Anna refused to ever be impressed by her dominance as a sister and lover.

            “Why don’t you come outside and enjoy the sun with me?”

            At that, Anna raised a single eyebrow. The meaning was obvious, even if the words themselves weren’t said. _“Really?”_ the eyebrow snarked.

            Elsa laughed and made her way indoors.

            “Of course I’m just joking. What, do you think I’m stupid or something?”

            Anna shrugged as if to say _“Well…”._ Elsa shoved her in the shoulder at that.

            “You absolute brat. I should punish you for that. I’m your sister and your wife, but I’m still your goddess.”

            Anna rolled her eyes again as she shut the doors to the balcony. She gave a pointed look at the crumpled blankets strewn on the bed. Her meaning was apparent.

            _“You’d think a goddess could make her own bed.”_

            Elsa threw up her hands in mock exasperation.

            “Hey, I’ve got a world to rule. I don’t have time to fix the bed every morning. Besides, why bother? We’re just going to mess it up again. Sometimes several times a day, if I remember right.”

            Anna’s cheeks darkened in embarrassment at that, and she punched Elsa lightly in the shoulder. Her fist, though petite, was still tough enough to hurt. Despite that, Elsa let the blow land, enjoying the sensation of feeling through her own flesh instead of through her snows, and enjoying the playful banter she exchanged with Anna.

            “All right, all right. Geez, woman, you’d think you’d have stopped being embarrassed by the mention of sex by now. I mean, you certainly didn’t have a problem last night when my fingers were-”

            Anna punched her again, harder this time, and her cheeks were flushed. Laughing, Elsa rubbed the aching shoulder.

            “Okay, you win. I formally apologise for bringing up our honestly un-secret intimacies. Good enough?”

            Anna gave her a cheeky grin before holding her chin in mock contemplation. Elsa gave an exaggerated gasp at that, pretending to be offended.

            “How dare you not accept my most generous offer! Do you think that it’s every day that someone gets an apology from a goddess? You’re a spoilt brat, you are.”

            Anna tried to stifle her giggles at that, succeeding at laughing silently at her sister’s melodrama. She turned to the bookshelf to ponder as to what book Elsa would read to her this morning (maybe _The Little Mermaid_?) when she suddenly found herself pushed into the shelf by Elsa’s body, which pressed against her aggressively. She shivered as Elsa’s breaths tickled the crook of her neck.

            “You know, I was just thinking,” Elsa whispered seductively as she ran her fingers down Anna’s upper arm. Her other arm was tightly wrapped around her little sister’s waist, claiming her defiantly. “Since you’re going to force me to make the bed at some point today, how about we get them messy right now, when they’re still all crumpled up?”

            Anna let out a silent gasp as Elsa’s wandering fingers made their way lower, drifting along the hem of her icy blue dress. She bit her lip as Elsa drew spiral patterns on the princess’s thigh.

            “What do you say?” Elsa murmured into her sister’s ear. 

            Anna gave a curt nod, unable to do more than that as Elsa’s index finger wormed its way under her dress.

            “I thought so,” Elsa whispered before she caught Anna’s smooth lips with her cold, soft ones.

 

* * *

 

            Olaf was busy digging through the latest carriage sent as tribute to the Ice Queen, this one from the kingdom of Corona, when he heard Elsa’s cry out in pleasure, her moan ringing through Frost Peak. It must be one of **those** mornings, he decided as he unfurled a purple flag with a golden sun in the centre, the flag of Corona which would doubtless be flapping in the wind above their royal castle, just underneath Elsa’s own white snowflake on blue. Those mornings when Anna decided to pay a visit to her godly sister and the two got a bit carried away.

            Olaf wasn’t quite sure what to make of Anna, even after three hundred years. She was fun and cheerful and peppy, that hadn’t changed, but she was a lot quieter now as well, and she wasn’t as fun to hug. Even after all this time, Olaf hadn’t lost his love of warm hugs, but these days he found that he would rather hug Elsa, the frozen goddess of the world, than Anna.

            Still, Anna made Elsa happy, which Olaf supposed was all that really mattered these days: ensuring that the goddess was happy. He still remembered how distraught Elsa had been just over two hundred years ago as she’d lain sobbing and wailing next to Anna’s bed, clutching her sister’s wrinkled hands in her own beautiful, youthful, **perfect** white ones. That had been the day that the whole world had threatened to enter a new ice age, and it had remained that way for an entire year. Even when Kristoff had passed away it hadn’t been that bad. In fact, Olaf was sure that it would never have ended if it hadn’t been for that fateful day, that day when Elsa had made a decision she had sworn she would never make.

            She had set to work immediately, hands weaving and winding, body swaying and swinging, brow set in intense focus as snow and ice had swirled through the air. The magic Elsa had wrought that day had been so powerful that the clouds had turned pitch black, snow had pelted the world for over a week, icicles had stabbed out of every surface of the Frost Peak and hail had smashed against the walls for days. Olaf had been hiding under the bulk of his little brother throughout the duration of the ritual, whilst Marshmallow had roared in defiance and fear, unsure of what was happening.

            When the snow and hail had finally stopped, the icicles had finally retreated back into the walls and sunlight finally broke through the turbulent clouds for the first time in five days, Olaf had peeked out from the protective embrace of his brother to see a sight that even now, two hundred and twenty years later, was crystal clear in his mind.

            Elsa was sprawled on the ground, exhausted. The woman that was not only Olaf’s goddess but also his creator, his mother, had done great feats of magic before, but he had never seen her look so drained. He remembered feeling fear, but that fear had turned to wonder when he’d turned to see what had tired the goddess so much.

            The being was nude; Elsa had not given it garb, not yet. She was crafted entirely from opaque ice, though snow filled her joints to allow smooth movement. Snow was also crafted into two braids which, though normally red, were still intertwined in a familiar pattern. Small dots of darkened ice freckled the being’s icy cheeks, and when she opened eyelids of ice, the green that Olaf had expected was instead a startling blue. This creature, this heavenly being crafted from snow and ice to replace that which had been lost, rose unsteadily to its feet. It gazed wonderingly at its hands, the smoothest, toughest and most beautiful ice that Olaf had ever seen. It looked up and opened its mouth, but no sound came out. Olaf was disappointed by that; the more complex the creation became, he knew, the harder it was to gift it with the ability to speak. However, unlike the servants Elsa had created to maintain Frost Peak, this one’s eyes shone with intelligence. It was without a doubt one of the greatest achievements the goddess had ever made, a sentiment Elsa no doubt shared. Well, Olaf assumed she shared it, because when she managed to lift her head, exhausted by the amount of magic she’d used, her eyes locked onto her creation and her mouth dropped open. When the ice being smiled encouragingly at the goddess, all strength left Elsa’s limbs, and she collapsed to the ground, crying. Olaf, immediately concerned, wriggled out of Marshmallow’s embrace to run to his creator’s aid as his little brother looked on dumbfounded. However, before he could get his flat, formless legs to carry him to Elsa, the creation was there already, kneeling next to the goddess and gently lifting her chin to cradle her face between her ice hands. Elsa stared into the being’s face whilst tears streamed down her cheeks, uttering her sister’s name in a mad mantra. _“Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna…”_

            When the being smiled and wiped away the goddess’s tears, before leaning down to capture Elsa’s lips in a deep kiss, Olaf knew that from this day on, nothing would ever be the same again. Their family had been shattered when Elsa had lost her sister, Olaf’s mother, Marshmallow’s stepmother, the only being that Elsa had ever truly loved with all her heart. But today, today that bond had been reformed. Their family was once again whole. Today was the day that Olaf knew that everything would be okay. Today was the day that guaranteed that Elsa would always have her loving companion to stand by her side for all eternity, no matter how long the goddess lived. Today was the day that ensured that Elsa would remain goddess of the world for as long as she wished, with no emotional weaknesses that could bring her, shattered, to her knees.

            Today was the day that Olaf got a little sister.

            A little sister named Anna.

 

** Fin **

 

**Author's Note:**

> It says a lot about what this Elsa’s like that I wrote that entire first part while listening to “The Rains of Castamere”. Still, I hope you liked this, and I hope that you guys picked up why I chose “The Little Mermaid”. Remember to leave a review, please! Hope you enjoyed!


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